


Someone's looking out for you

by Hepzheba



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, BAMF Stiles, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Hunters, Hurt Derek, Hurt Stiles, M/M, Pre-Slash, at least he tries to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 10:31:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/797464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hepzheba/pseuds/Hepzheba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Derek though, being the stupid person he is, didn’t understand that the track he had been following here had been a trap, he hadn’t even been suspicious of it. Stiles had warned him – of course Stiles had warned him, Stiles was suspicious of everything out of the ordinary these days. Derek thinks he should have been listening to him this time."</p>
<p>or</p>
<p>The one where Stiles tries being a BAMF to save Derek's ass from hunters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someone's looking out for you

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Sterek fic that I've posted (ohmygod!) so please be gentle with me.
> 
> Title is from the amazing Brandi Carlile's song Looking out.
> 
> A million thanks to my lovely beta [Sarah](http://inwantofabluebox.tumblr.com/), whom I will adore till my dying day. All remaining mistakes are my own.

  
Derek knows the moment he steps into the supposedly empty factory building that he has stepped into a trap. He can smell old rubber from two years ago when the factory was still up and running. Then there’s dirt and dust and bird crap, all of the general smell of decay. But there’s also human, sweat and wolfsbane and something chemical he can’t place and that smell is not old. He knows it’s a trap, just before he both sees and hears the hand grenade rolls up to lie still just in front of his feet. He doesn’t have time worrying about being blown to pieces before gas come from the grenade and the smell of the unknown chemical becomes so much stronger and it’s making him dizzy. Not I’ve-just-been-shot-with-wolfsbane-induced-bullets-dizzy – and isn’t that saying something about his life, the fact that he knows how it feels being hit with wolfsbane induced bullets? – but an alarming dizziness that makes him stumble to his knees, his vision swimming before his eyes and he thinks he may be gasping for breath, as if he’s suffocating.

He can hear the hunters – he knows with certainty that they are hunters – coming closer. He tries to get up, tries to focus his eyes, but he only manages to tumble into an old table and fall to the floor again.

“It’s working,” he can hear one of the hunters, a male, say, “it’s fucking working.”

“Of course it’s working,” a woman snaps, “Hurry up to capture him, I don’t really know how long it will be before it’s out of his system. Remember, this is an alpha, it’ll be quicker than for the betas and omegas we’ve caught before.”

Two men close in on him and he growls at them, threatening of death and destruction even though he can barely keep himself upright on all four on the cement floor.

“Vicious bastard,” the woman says but only sounding amused. “Hurry up, boys. His pack may not be the largest or the smartest but I don’t want any chances.”

The toxic slows Derek’s thought process down, but he understands that these are the hunters who have been roaming around town lately; the ones who have been all around California abducting both omega and beta werewolves that were found dead a few days later. From what Stiles has been able to gather from his father the wolves had been used as some kind of guinea pigs, been pumped full of different kinds of drugs and toxics till their bodies gave up. Even though the hunters hadn’t done anything to Derek’s pack yet, the knowledge that they had been spotted in Beacon Hills had kept Derek and his pack on edge.

Derek though, being the stupid person he is, didn’t understand that the track he had been following here had been a trap, he hadn’t even been suspicious of it. Stiles had warned him – _of course_ Stiles had warned him, Stiles was suspicious of everything out of the ordinary these days. Derek thinks he should have been listening to him this time.  
The two men come closer and Derek tries to get up, he really does, but his mind is sluggish and he can’t keep his balance. The first kick is a surprise, and that is a surprise in itself, but it doesn’t hurt, not really. Derek is healing and he is used to much worse pain than this, like a fucking stake through the stomach. Derek tries to get away from the kicking, tries to fight back, but to no avail. The woman laughs and her laughter makes Derek so, so angry, but he can’t get up. When he finally manages to get to his feet another grenade is tossed forward and the dizziness returns to make him crumble once more.

The kicking starts up again.

It’s somewhere after the third grenade that Derek gives up in trying to get up, gives up on trying to defend himself. Maybe he wasn’t meant as an alpha. He kind of wishes he had been a better leader, a better alpha for the pack but before he has time to dwell too much, a familiar smell reaches his nose and before he has time to realize where it comes from the kicking stops and a dark, blurry figure has thrown itself at the two men who were kicking Derek. They stumble backwards and the figure hunches in front of Derek, reminding Derek of a wolf protecting its cubs for some reason. And Derek really doesn’t like to think of himself as a cub, he’s the alpha, dammit!

The familiar smell comes from the figure and Derek knows it’s Stiles even before his vision clears up enough for him to see the back of the blue-gray-checked plaid.

“Get out of here, Stiles,” Derek groans at him because seriously? _Seriously?_ Stiles shouldn’t be here. Stiles sucks at fighting. Stiles can’t fight to save his own life. Derek is not even exaggerating. Stiles has been fighting to save his own life and losing, the only reason Stiles is still alive is because of – thanks to – Derek rushing in to save said life.

“Ah, pack to rescue,” the woman says and she sounds pleased, as if she’s secretly been waiting for this.

Derek hears the pin from another grenade just a second before he sees it rolling to stay in front of Stiles’ feet. There’s no explosion so Derek guesses that this grenade was of the same kind as the one that drugged him.

The wave of nausea and dizziness that hits him isn’t really surprising but it’s damn unpleasant.

“Stiles,” he groans out, trying to find out if Stiles is okay or if Stiles is out even more than Derek himself is. Stiles is no werewolf, the toxics would probably knock him out cold or worse. Derek does not panic at this thought.

Derek tries to get up, tries to make it to Stiles, to protect Stiles. He stumbles and falls down again as a new wave of the toxics hit him, making him even dizzier and a bit nauseated.

“I’m right here, big guy,” Stiles says, voice clear and he doesn’t sound dead or out cold or even affected at all. He’s right by Derek’s side, hunched down and his hand is a reassuring weight on Derek’s shoulder. Derek slumps back against the floor a bit in relief that Stiles is still okay. He focuses on the men and sees them tensing, but not because of Derek’s red-eyed glare. They are put off by Stiles being unaffected by the drug that has Derek crawling.

“What are you?” the woman says and she sounds awed and a little bit scared.

Derek knows the question is directed at Stiles. Before he can stop himself, he growls low in his throat, warning her to not hurt Stiles even if his threat holds very little truth at the moment.

“Oh, just a worried citizen,” Stiles says and rises, leaving Derek’s shoulder a bit colder at the loss of his hand.

“Stiles, get out,” Derek says again, trying to sound as much as an alpha as he can – trying to will Stiles to obey. Stiles, though, _never_ obeys Derek’s orders.

Had Stiles obeyed Derek’s orders he wouldn’t be here now.

Derek remembers telling Stiles about the trail, asking him to research the runes he had found but nothing about meeting him at the old factory. Derek even distinctly remembers telling Stiles to keep away. But Stiles is a very bad pack member. Or, Derek reflects, thinking about how many times Stiles has come to Derek’s rescue, maybe Stiles is a very good pack member. Derek usually decides which option depending on Stiles’ injuries. If Stiles is badly injured Derek gives him the silent treatment, something he never thought neither he or Stiles would take as a bad thing when they first met, but nowadays Stiles comes to Derek’s house just a few days of complete silence from Derek’s side, pleading for forgiveness with homemade chocolate muffins.

Derek can’t stay mad for long at him those days.

“Stiles, get out of here,” Derek says again. He’s not pleading. He isn’t.

“Like hell I am,” Stiles snaps. Derek doesn’t know if the anger is directed at him or the situation in general. Probably a bit of both.

“So you’ve come to help your alpha, have you?” the woman says and when she comes into view Derek is weirdly reminded of Kate Argent even though this woman looks nothing like Kate. She is shorter with dark, short hair but there is this air around her that screams psychotic bitch. That’s probably it.

“Dude,” Stiles says even though he is technically not talking to an actual dude, but Derek has never understood the slang he uses, “between you and me, he’s so not my alpha.”

Now that Derek can see the woman he can see her frowning.

“If anything, I’m _his_ alpha.”

The woman’s eyebrows shoot up on in surprise and then understanding and suddenly she tosses two grenades towards them at the same time. Stiles kicks them away but not before the gas reaches Derek and leaves him dry-heaving and gasping for breath on the floor.

“You okay?” Stiles asks and Derek waves his hand to him, the universal sign for _I’m fine_ even though he can barely breathe. “You know, lady, you’re starting to piss me off. I don’t like people kicking one of my puppies.”

Stiles loves using dog jokes against various kind of threats, especially when talking about (or to) Derek. Maybe because Derek’s the only one who takes offence.

“Boys, he’s only a human, get him out of the way, I want the alpha,” the woman says while completely ignoring Stiles’ threats. Derek growls at her but it sounds about as strong as a cub’s growl.

One of the men surges forward and aims a punch at Stiles’ head. Just when the punch is about to land, Stiles’ dodges and punches the man in his ribs, making him lose his balance slightly. The man lets out an irritated huff of breath; he had clearly been underestimating the wiry teen.

Stiles has been training with Scott and Isaac to learn control of his body and to protect himself without needing the pack all the time. Even though he’s grown into his body more now at nineteen than he had when he was sixteen, he still isn’t a fighter, and he probably never will be.

Stiles kicks at the man’s leg and then tries to land another punch in his ribs but the man deflects the punch and sends his own fist straight to Stiles’ jaw. Derek can see that the older man is a pro, that he does this for living, and Stiles? Derek still has no idea what Stiles is doing here.

There seems to be no real plan here. Logically, Stiles should have been waiting for the rest of the pack, or at least parts of it. He always tells Derek to wait for backup instead of just charging in. Why didn’t he follow his own damn advice? The other wolves could have followed the hunters to where they had taken Derek instead of this that will only end in Stiles getting hurt. Derek doesn’t get it. Stiles is usually the one that’s controlled, collected, _logical_ , the one who plans before he acts, and usually that’s what keeps them all alive. Scott’s the one wanting to charge in and just go with it. Hell, Derek’s even the one who just charges in, but Stiles keeps them still, plans and keeps them alive. So why would Stiles...?

Stiles and the man back away from each other. Stiles is panting and Derek can smell blood, both familiar from Stiles (and that Derek even knows what Stiles’ _blood_ smells like is a scary thought all in itself) and the other man. Derek wants Stiles out of this, he wants Stiles alive, he needs Stiles alive.

“If one of you lay your dirty hands on him, I’ll kill you,” Stiles warns and Derek’s heart sinks when he hears no lie in that; Stiles will go down protecting him and Derek growls, tries to get up.

“Stiles, get out,” Derek pleads.

Stiles half-growls at him, and in any other situation, Derek would have been proud of him. (And maybe a bit turned on, but that’s nobody’s business but Derek’s.)

“I’ll fucking kill you,” Stiles says again and then there’s fighting again and this time Derek knows the man won’t stop until Stiles is down.

Stiles, though, he fights with passion and he has never looked as powerful, and it breaks Derek’s heart knowing that Stiles will lose. He tries to get up, over and over again, and when he almost is up there’s another grenade that sends him gasping on the floor again. He’s on his side when Stiles falls down and doesn’t get up again.

“Stiles,” he rasps as tries to get up to get to his… his Stiles.

He feels a rage he recognizes from when his family died, he wants to rip the man’s throat out, tear his heart out. He roars, fighting the dizziness and gets up on all four. He doesn’t care about pain, he only cares about hurting, about making this man pay. He fixes his gaze on the man, when there suddenly is an answering roar and then the pack comes rushing in.

The woman throws grenades all around her, and Derek sees his wolf pack members fall down. Luckily, the pack consists of more than wolves these days. Chris Argent looks unimpressed as he holds a gun at the woman’s temple whilst Allison rounds up the two men with her crossbow, her brown eyes darting towards Scott who is down on the floor.

“Don’t worry,” Derek says, “it’ll wear off.”

The Sheriff is by Stiles’ side and Derek has never been so relieved when he hears Stiles’ voice. It’s hushed and broken, but it’s Stiles’ voice. Derek lets out a breath of relief he wasn’t even aware he was holding and rolls over onto his back.

Stiles is alive and that’s all that matters right now.

Derek hears the sound of Chris handcuffing the woman and her two thugs to pipes by the wall. When the men are bound Allison lowers her bow and rushes over to Scott, who is beginning to rise, and Derek can hear them whispering sweet nothings to each other. He turns his head on the cold floor, watching as Chris walks over to the Sheriff and Stiles, probably asking if they are doing this as they _normally_ do. The Sheriff gives him an affirmative nod and then picks up his cell phone. Chris walks over to Allison and tells her to check in on the others, that Scott seems fine. Chris then walks over to Derek, asking in an almost fatherly tone if he’s okay.

“I’m fine,” Derek lies and stumbles as he tries to get up.

Chris rolls his eyes and offers Derek his hand to help steadying him. Derek’s dignity is already damaged so he might as well accept the help.

“We need to get going,” Chris says as he steadies Derek with a firm grip on his elbow.

Isaac and Boyd come over to them, Isaac winds his arm around Derek’s waist and Derek leans a bit against him. The other wolves seem relatively unaffected by the gas by now but as Derek and Isaac make their way to the Argent’s car Isaac stumbles every now and then, but not as much as Derek does. Derek’s brain still feels slow and foggy, but he has no doubt it will go away eventually. Jackson is as good as unaffected and he had been the one furthest away from the gas, closest to the door.

The Sheriff and Stiles are the only ones who stay until the ambulance and police patrol come. Derek and Isaac get a ride with Allison and Chris – and how fucked up isn’t the fact that Chris Argent gives Derek a ride home? Derek knows it’s for the best, they can’t all be at the crime scene. He knows Scott, Erica, Boyd and Jackson will stay at the scene, hidden from view, until the police have everything under control in case the Sheriff needs their help. He knows Stiles is safe now, but he can’t help the ache in his chest at leaving him.

Chris drops them off outside the old Hale house that Derek has had rebuilt since Isaac moved in with him. Derek has tried being a responsible adult for Isaac, but he really doesn’t feel like it when Isaac is the one helping Derek to bed that night before Isaac pads over to his own bedroom across the hall.

Derek is exhausted and he should be able to sleep, but there’s too much adrenaline and worry and Derek doesn’t feel safe. He hears Isaac taking a shower and then his breathing and heartbeat slows down, the way it does when a person is sleeping.

Derek waits for a bit longer, making sure that Isaac isn’t going to wake up before he gets up. Should Isaac wake up and ask him, Derek isn’t sure what reason he would give for leaving. So much for a responsible adult; he is a twenty-five year old Alpha werewolf who sneaks out of his own fucking house (at least he uses the stairs and front door).

He knows Stiles will be fine, the Sheriff had called Scott who had sent Isaac a text. But Derek still can’t sleep right now without some kind of reassurance and Derek knows where to find the reassurance he needs.

It probably says a lot about Derek’s life that he knows exactly which tiles on Stiles’ roof he shouldn’t be stepping on but that’s one of the least important things tonight.  
He knows neither Stiles nor the Sheriff are home yet, but he’s not there to see any of them right now. He just needs… he needs safety, and Stiles’ smell is the thing that gives him that now. Derek lies down on Stiles’ bed – and it’s probably a bit creepy and weird that this isn’t the first time Derek has been lying in Stiles’ bed without Stiles’ consent, but Derek doesn’t want to think of all the things that are creepy and weird with him right now.

He buries his nose in Stiles’ pillow, feeling safe and home as he lets the exhaustion finally pull him in.

It’s just a few hours later, still in the middle of the night, when the Sheriff wakes him up. He has to shake Derek’s shoulder to wake him and that either says something about Derek’s exhaustion or just how safe Derek had felt. It’s probably the latter but Derek pretends it’s the former.

“You okay?” the Sheriff asks as he crouches down next to the bed. Derek blinks tiredly at him.

“Yeah. Is Stiles…?”

“They’re keeping him overnight. Just for observation,” the Sheriff says and calms Derek down with a hand on his shoulder when Derek had jolted up to… Well, Derek didn’t know what he was going to do, probably run to the hospital. “He’s fine. He talks even more on morphine, imagine that. He fell asleep quickly though.”

Derek relaxes as he takes in the Sheriff’s state. He is calm, tired but calm, and if the Sheriff isn’t worrying, neither should Derek.

“What happened tonight?” the Sheriff asks and there’s a hint of fear, probably for what could have happened.

“I don’t know,” Derek sighs, “I was following a trail I found and it led me to the factory. I had talked to Stiles earlier… He probably tracked me on my phone,” Derek realizes. The Sheriff rolls his eyes and sighs something that sounds like “of course”.

“Stiles always says to wait for others, for backup,” Derek says and the Sheriff nods, “I don’t understand why he didn’t. He doesn’t have superfast healing or…” Derek waves his hand a bit and refuses to even think of where he could have picked up that habit.

“Superpowers,” the Sheriff finishes for him and in any other situation Derek would have found it funny that the Sheriff of all people described it as superpowers; it sounds like something Stiles would say.

“You have no idea why Stiles would just barge in like that?” the Sheriff asks.

Derek shakes his head and the Sheriff smiles at him.

“No idea at all?” he tries and Derek shakes his head once more. “Good thing you’re pretty.”

That definitely sounds like something Stiles would say. Scratch that, that is something Stiles _has_ said. The Sheriff smiles and pats his shoulder before rising.

“You’ll figure it out,” he says and leaves the room.

Derek frowns after him and has no idea what it is exactly he should figure out. Has Stiles and Scott changed bodies again? Rushing into danger is definitely a Scott trait, especially when Allison is concerned, and for Stiles to rush in like Derek is the Allison to his Scott is just...

_Oh._

Derek can’t keep the small smile off his face.

**Author's Note:**

> I love BAMF!Stiles and was thinking of giving him a katana or a whip a la Indiana Jones or Catwoman, but it didn't work for this story. Sorry.


End file.
